


Christmas Interrupted

by Sharon Rose Black (Essarbee)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Christmas, F/M, Hogsmeade, POV Sirius Black
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-10-13 03:39:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10505646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Essarbee/pseuds/Sharon%20Rose%20Black
Summary: Remus discovers where Sirius is hiding and invites him to spend the holidays. Unknown to Sirius, Remus has also invited a long-lost "friend." Will they be able to pick up where they left off, or will Sirius be discovered?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Non-graphic nudity and sexual situations.
> 
> Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Universe and all within its boundaries belongs to J.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, Scholastic Books, and a number of other entities. The song, "Werewolves of London" was written and recorded by Warren Zevon. The two original characters, Kia Gaffikin and Jamie Clark-Preston, are my own. This is a labor of love, and no money has changed hands, thank you very much.

_(For Jordan and Wings.)_  
  
  
Twilight was falling. The clear sky was growing darker by the moment as the bitter wind blew swiftly from the north. A black, shaggy dog ventured out of his cave, surveying the wintry world around him with his silvery-gray eyes.

Hogsmeade stretched below him--blanketed with new fallen snow. The windows of her many shops and houses glowed warmly in the distance, as did the windows of the castle on the horizon.

He could hear the carolers, could see the lights and the decorations, and knew it was Christmas time. But exactly when the holiday would fall he did not know. He thought about Harry, and although the boy was safe at school, at least for the time being, the circumstances surrounding his involvement in the Triwizard Tournament bothered him more than he cared to admit.

He worried about Remus too. The full moon had been but a few nights ago, and he wondered how it had affected him. Was Snape continuing to brew the Wolfsbane potion for him? Or was he being forced to undergo the painful transformations he had in his youth?

Suddenly, in the distance, he heard someone calling his name. Not his given name either. His nickname. His Marauder name.

“PAAADD-FOOT!!!! PAAAAD-FOOT!!!”

Sirius looked down, and saw a man in a worn black cloak walking at the base of the mountains. It was Remus! He barked, then ran to greet him as any dog would greet his master: by jumping up on him.

Remus hugged him, rubbing him behind the ears. “There you are!” he said, for the benefit of any potential onlookers. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere; I’ve been so worried! Let’s get you home and out of the cold, okay boy?”

Sirius suddenly felt the need to speak to Remus in private. He stepped down, tugged at his cloak, then led him up through the rocks and into his hiding place, where Buckbeak was napping contentedly. After looking briefly around, he assumed his human form.

“I appreciate your invitation, Remus,” he said. “But I really can’t accept it.”

“Why not?” Remus asked. “You would do the same for me.”

“Of course I would,” Sirius said. “But I don’t want you to put yourself in any danger on my behalf.”

“There’s no danger,” Remus assured him. “The house has been charmed, and nobody knows you’re an animagus around here except me, the kids, and Dumbledore…”

“And possibly Snape,” Sirius reminded him.

“Snape doesn’t know,” Remus said. “I have Dumbledore’s word on that.”

Sirius thought for a minute. “What about Buckbeak?” he said. “I owe him my life, and I don’t want to risk…”

With a swish and a flick, Remus transformed Buckbeak into a small statue of an owl, which he pocketed in his cloak.

“Problem solved,” he said simply. “We’ll change him back once we get to the house.”

Sirius still looked reluctant.

“Its your pride, isn’t it?” Remus said. It was more of a statement than a question. “Your thick-headed, pure-blood pride!”

“No.”

“Then prove it! Come home with me!”

Sirius didn’t say anything. He just shook his head.

“Sirius Orion Black!” Remus snapped.

Sirius growled. He hated it when people used his middle name, which was also his father’s given name.

Remus sighed. “You did so much for me when I was in school. Both you and James. The least I can do is take you home with me and get you out of the cold.”

Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but Remus spoke first:

“Chicken and dumplings tonight,” he tempted. “You know, those fluffy dumplings that float to the top, like Mrs. Potter used to make? And a stuffed goose for Christmas, with cranberries and candied yams and suet pudding and chocolate and lemon tarts…everything you like.”

Sirius was stunned. “I…can’t believe you went to all of this trouble for me.” he said.

“Well, I did!” Remus snapped. “And if you waste my efforts, I’ll be very upset.”

He hated to admit it, but Remus had worn him down, even before the ominous warning. The thought of a warm house, good food, and a comfortable bed was extremely tempting. And he was hungry for human companionship. Particularly the company of his friend.

“Okay,” Sirius said. “You win.”

Remus beamed as Sirius assumed his canine form. He allowed his friend to put a leash around his neck, then followed as he led him out of the cave and down the rocky slopes until they came to the road. They walked for a mile and a half and finally came to a row of connected houses on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. They were older, and a bit run-down, but to Sirius they looked like Heaven…

Sirius waited while Remus fumbled for the keys, unlocked the door, and led him inside. Once the door was safely closed and locked, he assumed his human form as Remus transformed Buckbeak.

The two-level house was small, but homey. A fire burned in the hearth, warming up the entire room, and Sirius spied something glowing in the corner by the door. A Christmas tree! It had been so long since he’d seen one that he had almost forgotten they existed.

The wondrous smell of stewing chicken drew him into the kitchen like a magnet. He grabbed the cooking spoon and began to eat straight from the pot.

“It isn’t quite done yet,” Remus said.

“I don’t care…I’m hungry,” Sirius said between bites.

“Here,” said Remus, grabbing the spoon away from Sirius and ladling some of the stew into a bowl. “I still have to add the vegetables and make the dumplings, but this should tide you over. In the meantime, the bathroom’s over there,” he pointed to a door off the kitchen, “in case you need to use it, or maybe take a hot bath to warm your bones.”

A hot bath? It had been ages since he’d had one! Ravenously, he finished what was in the bowl, then went into the bathroom.

It was small, but clean. A fire burned brightly in the blue gas wall heater. Fluffy towels and washcloths hung on the rack, and a wide variety of soaps, shampoos, deodorants, toothpastes, and mouthwashes had been placed on the counter.

“Oh come off it, Remus! I’m not that niffy!” he barked good-naturedly.

“Actually, you are!” Remus retorted from the kitchen. “But I won’t hold it against you.”

Sirius laughed softly. He turned on the hot water, added some soap, then stripped off his prison uniform, which he left in a wad beside the toilet. Carefully, he eased into the water. It was hot enough to bite, but not to scald. Exactly how he liked it!

He took a deep breath, allowing his muscles to relax. Then he smeared soap on a washcloth, scrubbed his skin with relish, and then shampooed his hair; rinsing, repeating, and changing the water several times. When he was satisfied with the results, he got out of the tub and dried off, wrapping one towel around his loins and using another to dry the tangled mop on his head. Vigorously, he brushed his teeth, gargled, and ran a comb through his hair before he slipped into the red sleep pants, black bathrobe, and slippers that awaited him.

“Come on in,” he heard Remus say. “He’s in the bathroom…he should be out in a minute.”

Who was he talking to? Sirius wondered. Harry perhaps? Or maybe Dumbledore? Sirius opened the door, walked through the kitchen, then stopped cold…

“Kia?” he said in disbelief.

“Hello Sirius,” she said calmly. “Its been a long time.”

It had indeed. There were strands of silver in her long ebony hair, and her face seemed a bit worn. Particularly around her eyes, as if she’d spent too much time worrying and not enough time sleeping. But she was still as lovely as ever.

“I just remembered,” Remus said, grabbing his cloak. “I need to run into Hogsmeade for some suet, and Hagrid asked me if I’d share a pint with him at the Three Broomsticks. It may be awhile before I get back, so please don’t wait up for me.”

With that, Remus was out the door, leaving Sirius at a loss for words. He sat down in an armchair, rested his head in his hands, and an awkward silence ensued…

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her. He did, very badly, even though he had told Remus otherwise. As usual, Remus had seen right through him. But…he knew she had suffered enough on his account. He didn’t deserve her, and he certainly didn’t want to cause her anymore pain.

“Do you want me to leave?” she asked quietly.

He glanced up, and saw that her eyes were filling with tears. It seemed like no matter what he said or did, he would end up hurting her. He couldn’t bear to see her weep, couldn’t bear to be the one who caused it.

And to be honest, he couldn’t bear for her go, now that she was here.

He shook his head. “You don’t have to,” he replied.

Again he buried his face. He began to tremble beneath the burden of the past thirteen years, hoping he would not break down in her presence. But when she knelt before him, gently touching his cheek, his resolve crumbled. Before he realized it, he was in her arms, sobbing uncontrollably as she held him, kissing him and stroking his back.

“Its okay, love, its okay,” she whispered. “Let it out, love, let it all out…”

“Ki…I’m so sorry…so sorry for…”

“Ssh…you don’t have to say it…its going to be all right…”

She continued to hold him, rocking him back and forth, until he was finally spent. Somehow, he felt lighter, as if some of the weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

Sirius nodded.

“Come on, then. I’ll feed you.”

 

At Kia’s insistence, Sirius allowed her wait on him. She placed a bowl of chicken and dumplings, some homemade bread, and a slice of treacle tart in front of him, then went to serve herself.

“Tuck in,” she said. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

She didn’t need to tell him twice. He was starved! He hardly spoke until after he had finished the last bite of treacle tart.

“Is this Mrs. Potter’s old recipe?” he asked, after they finished. “It tastes exactly like hers used to. ”

“Actually, its Molly Weasley’s,” Kia replied. “She may have shared it with Molly at some point, but if I remember correctly Effie didn’t do that very often.”

“Ah yeah!” Sirius remembered. “She was a great lady…the best cook there ever was!”

They were quiet for awhile. Buckbeak, who had just eaten the boiled chicken bones and a large package of ground beef that Kia had given him, was sleeping in the corner, taking up a goodly share of the small sitting room.

“He’s beautiful,” Kia said. “Where did you get him?”

“Long story,” Sirius replied. “For now lets suffice to say that Harry rescued us both.”

“Harry Potter?” Kia asked.

“The one,” Sirius replied, pride creeping into his voice. “He looks…and acts…just like James. Except he has Lily’s eyes, and her sweet disposition.”

“So they’ve told me,” Kia smiled.

The smile faded when she spotted the serial number on his neck.

“You know, I really need to check you over,” she said. “You can’t have had access to a healer in the past thirteen years.”

He knew what she was playing at, and thought it appealing, but suddenly he felt apprehensive about undressing in front of her. Sure, she had seen him naked. Loads of times. But that had been before Azkaban. He worried how she might react; not only when she saw how thin he had become, but also when she saw the marks that the Ministry had etched into his skin.

He tried to hide his nervousness with a joke. “You never did learn to leave your bag at St. Mungos, did you?”

Kia sighed. “If I remember correctly, I never had the chance.”

She had him there, and Sirius knew it. There had been many times that he and his friends had come to her to be patched up: after a full moon, a duel gone awry, a Quidditch match, or just a plain old-fashioned fist fight. Of the four, the only one she never balked about helping was Remus, because he was the only one who never fell victim to his own folly.

But scold as she might, she had always helped them. Sirius, because she loved him, and James...well, more for Sirius' sake as well as for Lily’s. She had even helped Peter, until the time…

The triggered memory made him laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Kia asked.

“Nothing,” he replied, his gray eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Sirius…”

“If I told you, you’d be ill.”

“Sirius, I’m a healer! Nothing makes me ill!”

“Not even remembering the time Peter asked you to give him a prostate exam?”

She gagged, and then started laughing. “Sirius Black, I did NOT need to remember that!” she chided playfully.

“Told you!” he smirked. “And he looks worse now!”

“I’m sure he does,” she said, “And…since you were kind enough to put that picture in my mind, you’re going to be the one to get it out!”

“And how do you expect me to do that?” he asked.

She smiled, and he knew the answer.

“Oh Kia! No! No! That’s…not fair!”

“Its for your own good, Sirius Black. Now you march upstairs this instant and get ready! I’ll be there shortly.”

“But Kia, I don’t know which…”

“First door on your left!” she replied. “Now go! Off with you!”

 

Sirius entered the bedroom and saw that everything had been laid out. In spite of his apprehension, he had to laugh. But the game wouldn’t be any fun--for either of them--if he were to fully cooperate.

He removed his slippers and his sleep pants, but not his robe, which he kept securely tied at the waist. Then he laid back on the bed, covered his legs with an afghan, folded his arms over his middle, and waited...

In a few moments, she entered the room, dressed in her healer robes. She opened her bag, removing a clipboard and a quill:

“Okay, Mr. Black, let’s start with a few questions,” she said professionally. “According to my records, you have not seen a healer in the past thirteen years.”

“That is correct.”

“I see,” she said, ostensibly writing something on her chart. “Now…can you tell me anything about your parents’ medical history?”

He shrugged. “They were psychotic arseholes?”

“Yes...well, fortunately for you, that isn’t hereditary,” she replied. “Now…have you had any problems sleeping?”

“Not really,” he said.

He had just stretched the truth to its breaking point. It was next to impossible to get comfortable on the floor of a cold cave. And even when he did sleep, he often suffered from nightmares. But why worry her?

Kia sighed and continued to write. Then, she looked him squarely in the eye. “Now…have you had any major injuries since October of 1981?”

Sirius sighed. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

She paused. “I’m not going to force you to show me,” she said. “But…I did hear stories, and I’d like to see the extent of the damage for myself.”

He sighed. Although neither of them had come out and said it (no need, really), he knew that they were back together. As such, he knew he wouldn’t be able to hide the marks forever. Breathing deeply, he moved his arms and closed his eyes, bracing himself for the inevitable…

He felt the bed shift as she sat town beside him. He felt her untie, then gently open his robe…

Then she gasped.

“Oh love…” she whispered, her voice cracking.

Then he felt her stroking him, lightly tracing every mark on his chest and his stomach with her fingertips. The tension left him. He opened his eyes, and noticed hers were filled with tears.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” she whispered. “Will you tell me how it happened?”

He shook his head. “Maybe later, but not right now.”

She nodded and continued to examine him, although she didn’t resume her healer’s stance. Her touch was light and efficient, but she took extra time to listen to his heart. That didn’t surprise him, since she used to like to fall asleep with her stethoscope against his chest. One of the things he had sometimes fussed about, but had never really minded.

“Well?” he asked when she had finished.

She measured out a potion. “Drink this,” she said. “Its for your teeth. And you’re underweight, but after some feeding up I think you’ll be fine.”

Sirius did as she asked, then looked into the mirror she handed him, watching in amazement as the damage to his teeth reversed in a matter of minutes.

“Thanks,” he said, pleasantly shocked.

Kia handed him another potion and a lozenge. “This is just Pepperup Potion” she said. “I noticed that your throat is absolutely raw.”

His throat had been bothering him, but after so many winters in Azkaban he hadn’t given it much notice. It would be wonderful to obtain some relief, he thought, as he brought the potion to his lips…

No, take the lozenge first,” Kia said. “It will keep steam from coming out of your ears.”

The potion had a bitter, spicy taste to it that Sirius had long forgotten, but its effects were instantaneous. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, and when he opened them, Kia handed him yet another potion.

“This will help you sleep,” she explained. “And you won’t have nightmares.”

He winked at her. “Wouldn’t you rather…”

“Yes,” she replied. “But first things first. In spite of what you told me earlier, I know you haven’t slept well in ages. And,” she added, winking back, “you’re going to need your energy.”

Sirius drank the potion, which made him feel warm and drowsy. He wiggled out of his robe, letting it fall to the floor beside the bed as he crawled under the comforter.

“Ki…” he said before he drifted off to sleep. “Don’t go…”

But she was already beside him, pressing her warm nude body up against his.

“I wasn’t planning on it.” she whispered, placing her hand over his heart.

 

The sun was shining through the curtains when he finally awoke. He was alone, but could smell coffee brewing. Groggily, he struggled into his sleep pants and robe. He went downstairs, and could hear talking from the kitchen.

“All right there, Sleeping Beauty?” Remus asked playfully.

“I’m fine, Cinderella!” Sirius shot back, sitting down at the table. Then he looked at Kia, “Any idea when he came in last night?”

“No clue,” Kia replied, setting a plate in front of Sirius and another in front of Remus before pouring each of them a cup of coffee. “But he didn’t turn into a pumpkin, so I assume it was before midnight.”

Sirius looked at his plate and smiled. Bacon…crispy but not burned; eggs, sunny side up, toast and butter, a fried tomato, and coffee.

“You remembered?” he said.

“I did,” Kia smiled.

The three of them ate. Sirius looked around the room. “What day is today?” he asked.

“Christmas Eve,” Remus replied.

Sirius looked at Kia, “Do you have to work?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I requested a week off…and they gave it to me.”

Remus sighed, “Aren’t you worried that this might cause problems?”

Kia shrugged. “Why should it? I’ve worked the past thirteen Christmases, voluntarily I might add…”

“Exactly my point,” Remus replied. “Don’t you think it might raise suspicions?”

“No more than usual,” Kia replied. “At any rate, there’s a silencing charm on the house. I saw to that! And even if someone does come nosing around, what will they find? Me, you, and a shaggy black dog.”

“And a statue of an owl,” Sirius added, looking at Buckbeak, who was eating another plate of hamburger meat.

“That too,” Kia responded. “Anyway, this is the first Christmas we’ve had together in thirteen years…I don’t want to spoil it by fretting about those arseholes.”

“I suppose your right,” Remus sighed. “Still, I worry…”

“You always did,” Sirius smiled. “I suppose some things will never change.”

 

Sirius spent the rest of the morning enjoying the warmth of the fire, gazing at the tree, and listening to Christmas music on the Victrola. Kia had slipped out for a few hours, and Remus, who was baking, kept a mug of hot chocolate and samples of goodies in Sirius’ hands at all times. The aromas wafting from the kitchen…shortbread cookies, suet pudding, fudge, divinity, minced pies, and treacle tarts…reminded him of happier Christmases. With James and Lily…and of course with little Harry.

“Remus?” he ventured, when his friend came into the living room with yet another mug of hot chocolate. “Do you think we might be able to get Harry to come down here to spend the day tomorrow?”

Remus shook his head. “Dumbledore doesn’t think it would be a good idea right now.”

Yes, of course. The Triwizard Tournament. Sirius didn’t want to let on to Harry how worried he was, but his insides quaked every time he thought of how the boy had been drawn into that situation. Remus seemed to sense it too, and placed his hand on Sirius’ shoulder.

“He got through the first task,” he pointed out.

“He did,” Sirius replied. “But there are still two others…”

“He’ll get through those as well. I don’t think Dumbledore is going to let anything happen to him.”

“Maybe not,” Sirius breathed. “But that entire thing seems so…dodgy! I can’t help but wonder…”

“I don’t think Voldemort’s involved,” Remus reassured him. “Even if Peter has gone back to him, its just too soon.”

“I hope you’re right,” Sirius said. “Still, I worry about Karkaroff. He’s was a Death Eater also, and he’s at Hogwarts with him.”

“So are Moody and Dumbledore,” Remus reminded him.

“I know,” Sirius replied. “I’m just worried.”

“As am I,” admitted Remus. “But as you so astutely pointed out this morning, that’s my job.”

A few moments later, they heard something rapping at the window. Cautiously, Remus peeked through the blinds.

“Not to worry…its just the post.” he said.

Remus paid the owl, then pulled a large paper parcel into the house, which he handed to Sirius.

“Its for you, mate,” he said.

Sirius’ eyes lit up when he recognized the handwriting. It was Harry’s! He ripped open the package and saw what looked like an ordinary cloak and a piece of parchment:

 

_Dear Sirius--_

_I’m hoping that you’re well. I couldn’t think of what to buy you for Christmas, but Hermione said you might like this cloak we found at Gladrags Wizard Wear since it’s charmed with a warming spell. She usually has good ideas, but I wish I could buy you something as wicked as the Firebolt you bought me last year._

_We have a dance coming up on Christmas. The Yule Ball. Both Ron and I have dates. Hermione says she does also, but Ron thinks she’s lying._

_Not much else going on here, but I’ll let you know if anything develops. I hope you and Buckbeak are having a good Christmas, wherever you are._

_Harry_

_P.S. Not getting complacent. Hermione won’t let me, so no worries there._

 

“Well, what does it say?” Remus asked anxiously.

Sirius handed him the note, and Remus chuckled as he read it. “Brilliant witch, that Hermione Granger is,” he said. “Wish she’d been around when we were in school.”

“Lily was our Hermione,” Sirius reminded him.

 

Kia returned shortly after one. Sirius’ eyes lit up when he noticed that she was carrying a bag full of packages.

“Are those for me?” he asked eagerly, as she placed them under the tree.

“A fair few of them are,” she replied. “I got some things for Remus too, and for Buckbeak.”

“Kia, I told you not to buy me anything,” Remus said.

“That wouldn’t be right,” Kia said. “You’re our host, after all.” Then she pulled a copy of The Daily Prophet out of her shopping bag, which she promptly handed to Remus.

“Did you know anything about this?” she asked.

Remus read the article, his mouth thinning as he shook his head.

“I’d heard he’d been ill,” he said. “But these circumstances…they look all too familiar. Have you seen him at St. Mungos, by any chance?”

Kia shook her head.

“What’s this all about?” Sirius asked.

Remus frowned and passed him the newspaper. Sirius took it and drew back, raising an eyebrow when he read the headline:

 

_Mystery Illness of Bartemius Crouch_

_Bartemius Crouch, head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, is rumored to be suffering from a mysterious ailment. Crouch--a Ministry employee for over thirty years--has not been seen in public since November, when he acted as a judge for the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts._

_“I’m sorry to say that Mr. Crouch isn’t well, and hasn’t been since the World Cup,” said Percy Weasley, Crouch’s personal assistant. “He has been so overworked lately, though, that it comes as no surprise. He’s still as sharp as a tack, but…well, time stands still for no one, does it--not even the best of us. He needs a break, needs to take better care of himself now that he’s older, and I consider it a very great honor to be able to fill his shoes until he recovers.”_

_Crouch’s long time neighbor, Hyacinth Bucket (pronounced Boo-kay), also believes that Crouch is ill, although she reiterates that she’s seen neither hide nor hair of him in days._

_“His house appears deserted,” Bouquet told reporter Barnabas Cuff late Friday morning. “I’ve noticed the newspapers are piling up, and I haven’t seen anybody coming or going in over three weeks. I’ve been wondering myself if he’s been taken to the hospital._ _Not that I’m nosy, mind you," Bucket adds jovially, "I just like to look out for my neighbors!”_

_Miriam Strout, who acted as a spokesperson for St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, declined to comment on the matter, and Welcome Witch Jamie Clark-Preston would neither confirm nor deny that Crouch is a patient._

_Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, does not believe Crouch’s ailment is serious, although he did confirm that Crouch in on leave._

_“I suppose he’s a bit under the weather,” Fudge stated, concurring with Weasley. “But I seriously doubt its anything a bit of rest won’t remedy.”_

 

Sirius snorted, shrugged, and shook his head. “Whatever he has, I hope its painful!” he barked.

“I don’t blame you, love,” said Kia, resting her hand on his forearm. “Still…this worries me, even if it is him. I mean, isn’t this how it all started before?”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Remus replied.

Sirius admitted their point, but added bitterly, “If Voldemort did kidnap Crouch, I can at least take comfort in the knowledge that he’s reaping his karma.”

“Which one?” Kia asked.

“Hopefully both of them,” Sirius replied.

 

To Sirius’ relief, Remus changed the subject. He thought that Kia, at least, knew the man had sent him to Azkaban without a trial. But he wasn’t sure if either of them knew that Crouch had been partially responsible for the marks on his body. Not that he had acted alone. At least five others were involved, and only one had spoken out in his defense. But he didn’t want to go into all of that, at least not today, and was grateful that they didn’t press the issue.

They spent that evening in front of the fire; listening to carols, eating goodies and drinking wine, playing gobstones and exploding snap, and remembered happier times…

“My dad used to read to us on Christmas Eve,” Kia mentioned, by way of suggestion.

“I have a copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard,”_ Remus said, pulling the book off the shelf. “Have you read any of them?”

“Actually…no,” she replied.

“Oooh, read ‘The Warlock’s Hairy Heart!’” Sirius proposed. When he was a child it had been his and Regulus’ favorite story.

“I don’t think Kia would like it,” Remus said, by way of protest.

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” Kia suggested.

“All right then,” Remus relented. “Just remember you were forewarned.”

With that, he handed the book to Sirius. “Will you do the honors?”

“Absolutely,” Sirius said, taking the book from Remus and searching for the proper page.

Remus sat cross-legged on the floor, and Kia flopped down on her belly, resting her chin in her hands and crossing her legs at the ankles. As soon as everybody was settled, Sirius rubbed his eyes, cleared his throat, and began to read:

“ 'There was once a handsome, wealthy, talented young warlock named Lucius Malfoy, who watched in disgust as all of his evil, Death-Eatery friends turned into blithering idiots by falling in love…' ”

“That’s not how it goes!” Remus scoffed, although he and Kia both laughed.

“It does now,” Sirius retorted, and continued, “ 'Prancing and preening about, losing their appetites, their dignity, and their chastity to all the filthy slappers and slags who strutted up and down Knockturn Alley…' ”

“Be serious!” Remus said.

“I am Sirius,” he winked.

When even Buckbeak had finished rolling his eyes at the tired pun, Sirius continued:

“ 'Now, Lucius vowed never to fall prey to such weakness, and employed the Dark Arts to ensure his immunity…' ”

“To what?” Kia asked. “A social disease?”

“What’s that?” Remus asked.

“Um…never mind.” Kia said, then looked as Sirius. “Go on.”

“ 'Unaware of his secret, the Malfoy’s laughed to see him so aloof and cold. ‘All will change,’ they predicted, ‘when a maid catches his fancy!’ ”

“ 'But…young Malfoy’s fancy, among… _other_ things, remained…untouched…' ”

“Oh Sirius!” Kia said, laughing at the naughty look on his face.

Sirius read on, adding his own twist to the tale of cold-hearted warlock. Of course he called the maiden Narcissa, but coughed a time or two when he read the superfluous descriptions of her wealth, beauty, and lineage. Kia and Remus continued to play along, looking and acting like a couple of kids. Especially Kia, who was wearing no make-up and had braided her hair into two long tails.

“ 'The table was laden with silver and gold, bearing the finest wines and most sumptuous foods,' ” Sirius continued. “ 'Minstrels strummed on silk-stringed lutes and sang of a love that Lucius had never felt. Narcissa sat upon a throne beside him as he spoke words of tenderness he had stolen from the poets, without any idea of their true meaning.' ”

“ 'You speak well, Lord Malfoy,’ Narcissa replied, ‘and I would be delighted by your attentions if I thought you had a heart.’ ”

“ 'Lucius smiled, and told Narcissa that she need not fear on that score. Bidding her follow, he led her from the feast, and down to the locked dungeon where he kept his greatest treasure…' ”

“ 'There, in an enchanted crystal casket, was Lucius’ beating heart!' ”

“That explains a great deal,” Kia said.

“ 'Long since disconnected from eyes, ears, and fingers, it had never fallen prey to beauty, or to a musical voice, or to the feel of silken skin. Narcissa was terrified by the sight of it, for the heart was shrunken and covered in long blonde hair.' ”

“You mean _black_ hair,” Remus corrected.

“I’m the one reading the story; I’ll tell it how I see fit,” Sirius chided gently. Then, raising his voice several pitches, he continued, “ ‘Oh Lucius, what have you done? Put that filthy thing back where it belongs…I beg you!’ ”

Kia giggled. Remus just smiled and shook his head.

“ 'Seeing that this was necessary to please her,' ” Sirius said, pantomiming the actions, “ 'Lucius drew his wand, unlocked the crystal casket, sliced open his own breast, and replaced his blonde hairy heart in the empty cavity it had once occupied.' ”

“ ‘Now you are healed, and will know true love!’ cried Narcissa, embracing him.' ”

“ 'The touch of her soft white arms, the sound of her breath in his ear, the scent of her heavy golden hair…all of these things pierced Lucius’ newly awakened heart like spears. But…it had grown strange during its long exile, blind and savage in the darkness to which it had been condemned, and its appetites had grown powerful and perverse.' ”

“ 'The guests at the feast had noticed Lucius’ and Narcissa’s absence. At first untroubled, they grew anxious as the hours passed, and finally began to search the Manor. They found them in the dungeon, and a most dreadful sight awaited them there…' ”

“ 'Narcissa lay dead upon the floor, her breast cut open, and beside her crouched Lucius, holding in one bloody hand her great, smooth, shining scarlet heart, which he licked and stroked…' ” 

_"Ewwwwww!!!"_ Remus and Kia said simultaneously.

" 'Vowing to exchange it for his own.' ”

“ 'In his other hand, Lucius held his wand (again Sirius looked naughty, and Remus and Kia laughed), trying to coax from his own chest the shriveled, hairy heart. But the hairy heart was stronger than he was, and refused to relinquish its hold upon his senses or to return to the coffin in which it had been locked for so long.' ”

“ 'Before the horror-struck eyes of his guests, Lucius cast aside his wand and seized a silver dagger. Vowing never to be mastered by his own heart, he hacked it from his chest.' ”

“ 'For one moment, Lucius felt triumphant, with a heart clutched in each hand; then he fell across Narcissa’s body and died.' ”

Sirius slammed the book shut for dramatic effect, then stated with finality:

“The end!”

“Well…that was certainly…different!” Kia commented.

“Here,” Remus said, holding out his hand. “I want to read ‘The Tale of the Three Brothers.' ”

Sirius handed him the book, and Remus opened it towards the end. “ 'There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight…' ”

“Not _twilight!”_ Sirius corrected. “Midnight!”

“I’m the one reading now,” Remus reminded him. “ 'In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across. However, these brothers were learned in the magical arts, and so they simply waved their wands and made a bridge appear across the treacherous water…' ”

Both Sirius and Kia grew very quiet as Remus read the well known story of the brothers’ encounter with Death, and how Death had claimed the first brother, who asked for the most powerful wand in the world, and the second brother, who asked for a stone that would resurrect the dead.

“ 'But though Death searched for the third brother for many years, he was never able to find him. It was only when he had attained a great age that the youngest brother finally took off the Cloak of Invisibility,' ” here Remus’ voice caught, “ 'and gave it to his son. And then, he greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, and, as equals, they departed from this life.' ”

Remus closed the book, and for several moments everyone was silent. No need for words, Sirius thought, when they were all three thinking the same thing.

Finally, Remus spoke, though his voice was little more than a whisper:

“It’s getting late. I think I’ll go to bed.”

“I think I will too,” said Sirius, then turned to Kia and asked, “Are you coming?”

Kia took his hand as he lead her into the bedroom, closing the door behind them. The room was dimly lit, and for a few moments they gazed at one another, dark eyes blending into gray as their souls intertwined. He took her face in his hands and gently kissed her cheek, but hesitated when she tried to kiss him on the lips.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “That bothers you now, doesn’t it? Because of the dementors.”

He nodded, relieved for perhaps the hundredth time since their reunion that he didn’t have to explain himself. “I’ll get past it, though. I promise.”

“No worries,” she assured him. “And there’s no rush.”

Gently he touched her face, and slowly, carefully, sought her mouth. As her lips moved beneath his, the nightmares of the past melted away as he was flooded with memories of what once had been.

He stepped backwards and gently unbuttoned her blouse, which glided from her shoulders as it fell to the ground. Then he unfastened her bra and gazed at her as she stood before him, naked to the waist.

Gently, he laid her down and unzipped her jeans. She wiggled out of them and moved to the middle of the bed as he disrobed, this time without trepidation. The next thing he knew, she was on top of him, kissing and caressing every mark the Ministry had placed on him…and then he was on top of her…

They kissed and caressed each other for a very long time before she took him in her hand and guided him inside of her. They rocked back and forth, slowly at first…then in torrid, unbridled passion, crying out together as they reached the pinnacle of ecstasy. Collapsing, then cuddling, they both fell into an exhausted sleep.

 

The room was beginning to lighten when Sirius awoke. Kia was still sleeping beside him. Then he remembered. It was Christmas.

“Ki!” he whispered excitedly. “Ki!”

“What,” she answered sleepily.

“Time to open presents.”

She stretched and yawned as he threw on his robe and sleep pants, slamming the door behind him as he headed downstairs to inspect the packages…

Kia appeared in a few moments, followed by Remus. “What’s all the racket,” he asked groggily.

“Time for presents!” Sirius said.

“I think the best present either of you could give me would be few more hours sleep,” Remus replied.

“Oh, don’t be such a scrooge,” Kia chided playfully.

“A what?” Sirius asked.

“Never mind,” Kia answered. “It’s a muggle thing.”

“Can I at least make some coffee first?” Remus asked.

“I’ll make it,” Kia volunteered. “But no peeking until I’m done.”

Kia went into the kitchen, while Sirius continued to try to guess what his presents were. Remus only shook his head.

“I told her not to buy me anything,” he said softly. “But she does anyway.”

“I’ll buy her something later,” Sirius said. “Once she tells me what she wants.”

“Believe it or not, both of you gave me exactly what I wanted,” Kia said, returning from the kitchen with a coffee mug in each hand. “You, when you planned this little reunion,” she said, handing the first mug to Remus. “And you,” she said, handing Sirius the second mug, “gave me your present last night!”

“Your present?” Sirius said playfully. “I thought that was my present!”

“If there wasn’t a price on your head I’d have sent you both to the Leaky Cauldron!” Remus teased. “Next time use a silencing charm!”

“I told you I put one on the house!” Kia said.

“Next time, put one on your bedroom!” Remus shot back.

Sirius chuckled. Kia blushed and distributed the presents. She had bought Sirius mostly clothing, but also a model of the bike he had once owned, which she had charmed to fly.

“I wish I had my real one,” Sirius sighed.

For Remus, she had bought a stack of albums for his Victrola, which she said she had found at a second hand record store in London.

“These are brilliant,” Remus said, flipping through them.

“Listen to this one,” Kia said, grabbing one of the records and placing it on the turntable. It opened with a very upbeat riff, and then the singer began:

_I saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand,_  
_Walking though the streets of Soho in the rain._  
_He was looking for a place called Lee Ho Fook’s,_  
_Gonna get a big dish of beef chow mien._

_Aaooooo! Werewolves of London!_  
_Aaooooo!_  
_Aaooooo! Werewolves of London!_  
_Aaooooo!_

_You can hear him howling around your kitchen door,_  
_Better not let him in._  
_Little old lady got mutilated late last night,_  
_Werewolves of London again!_

This time, they all sang along with the chorus:

_Aaooooo! Werewolves of London!_  
_Aaooooo!_  
_Aaooooo! Werewolves of London!_  
_Aaooooo!_

_He’s the hairy-handed gent that ran amuck in Kent,_  
_Lately he’s been overheard in Mayfair._  
_Better stay away from him,_  
_He’ll rip your lungs out Jim!_  
_Ha! I’d like to meet his tailor._

_Aaooooo! Werewolves of London!_  
_Aaooooo!_  
_Aaooooo! Werewolves of London!_  
_Aaooooo!_

_Well, I saw Lon Chaney walking with the Queen,_  
_Doing the Werewolves of London._  
_I saw Lon Chaney, Jr. walking with the Queen,_  
_Doing the Werewolves of London._  
_I saw a werewolf drinking a Piña Colada at Trader Vic’s--_  
_His hair was perfect!_

_Aaooooo! Werewolves of London_  
_Aaooooo!_  
_Aaooooo! Werewolves of London_  
_Aaooooo!_

“Who’s Lon Chaney,” Remus asked, when the song was over.

“No idea,” Kia replied.

 

They fed Buckbeak and ate a full English breakfast--cooked by Sirius, at his insistence. After they had cleaned up the dishes and Remus had put the goose in the oven, Sirius transformed into a dog so the three of could venture outside.

“What a perfect day,” Remus said.

Sirius had to agree. The sky was clear, and the sun shown down upon the snow. Remus and Kia took turns throwing what Kia called a Frisbee back and forth for him to chase, which he sometimes caught in mid-air. None of the passersby paid them any mind, and why should they? They simply looked like a couple playing with their dog.

The only person who approached them was a pretty blonde teenager, who commented that she’d never seen a black dog with silvery eyes before. She asked Kia if she might pet him; a request Kia promptly denied.

“He bites,” she said, by way of explanation. “And come to think of it, so do I.”

 

The goose was done by mid-afternoon. The table was set, and the three of them were getting ready to eat when they heard a knock at the door.

Sirius raised his brow, and Kia looked alarmed.

“Just ignore it,” Remus whispered.

The knocking escalated into pounding. Buckbeak shrieked, and Sirius was thankful Kia had put a silencing charm on the house. “We know you’re in there,” trilled a syrupy voice. “Open up, by order of the Ministry of Magic.”

Without a word, Sirius took his canine form while Kia transformed Buckbeak into a statue. Remus looked around the room for anything they needed to burn before he finally checked the peephole.

“It’s Fudge and Umbridge,” he mouthed. He cracked the door, but left the chain latched.

“Hello Minister,” he said. “What brings you here?”

“We’d like a word with you, Mr. Lupin,” Fudge replied. “May we come in?”

“I’ll step outside, but I’m really not in the mood for…”

Before Remus could finish his sentence, Umbridge flicked her wand, snapping the chain and forcibly opening the door. She entered, followed by Fudge, and focused her gaze on Kia. Growling, Sirius moved in front of her protectively.

“Why Miss Gaffikin," Umbridge said, smiling sweetly. "What a pleasant surprise to see _you_ here today. And why aren’t we working?”

_“We_ have worked every Christmas…every holiday, to be exact, for the past thirteen years,” Kia snapped. "I wanted to take one off for a change.”

“How nice,” Umbridge replied, her smile broadening. “Still, I find it rather…interesting that you should find it necessary to do so now.”

“I don’t see why,” Kia replied. Her voice was calm, but Sirius could hear her heart racing as she buried her hands deeply in his fur.

“Miss Gaffikin,” Fudge said in a condescending manner, “I’m sure it hasn’t escaped your notice that we have a killer on the loose! A killer with whom you used to be romantically involved, I might add. You wouldn’t happen to know of his whereabouts, would you?”

“I haven’t seen him,” Kia said simply. "And truthfully, I don’t care to. Because believe it or not, I’ve moved on…haven’t I darling?” she said, looking at Remus.

Remus took his cue, stepping behind the chair and placing both hands on her shoulders.

“We were hoping to keep this a secret for a bit longer,” he said, “But yes, we’ve been seeing each other .”

“Lovely,” Umbridge simpered, looking at Sirius. “And would this be your offspring?"

Again Sirius growled. Remus swatted him lightly.

“Bad dog!” he scolded, for the sake of appearances.

“I hate to question your word,” Fudge faltered. “But I would feel much better about things if you permitted us to search your residence.”

“Do you have a warrant?” Remus asked.

“Actually,” Umbridge beamed, revealing a scroll she’d been hiding behind her back, “We have.”

 

Kia tightened her grip around Sirius’ neck as Remus pulled up a chair beside her, looping one arm around Kia’s shoulder and placing a hand on Sirius’ back. His heart raced, not for himself, but for the two of them. He was glad he’d pocketed Harry’s note, and that Remus had tossed any of the Christmas wrappings with his name on it in the fireplace. Hopefully they hadn’t overlooked anything.

Fudge searched upstairs while Umbridge searched downstairs, swishing and flicking her wand as she turned everything inside out. Drawers, cupboards, cabinets…nothing escaped her scrutiny. She even looked into the horn on the Victrola and removed the stuffing from the goose before she peered inside the hollowed-out cavity. Sirius looked back at Kia, and then at Remus, who was shaking his head in disbelief. Finally, Fudge returned from upstairs.

“Well, I couldn’t find anything,” he said, as Umbridge was forcing the stuffing back into the bird. “Could you, Dolores?”

“I’m afraid not,” Umbridge replied. “Apparently we were given a faulty lead.”

Fudge turned to Remus, “Would you mind terribly if I were to borrow your water closet?” he asked.

“I suppose not,” Remus replied.

Suddenly, Sirius remembered! The one thing he forgot! He bristled and growled as Fudge went into the bathroom, shut the door, and began to tinkle. Inwardly, Sirius cursed Fudge, himself, and his canine hearing.

_Don’t let him see it,_  he thought. _Please don’t let him see it..._

“AHA!!!”

There was a flush, then Fudge emerged from the bathroom, holding something in his hands. It was Sirius’ prison uniform.

“Would you mind explaining _this?”_ Fudge demanded, brandishing the uniform in front of their faces.

“I think I can answer that question, Minister.”

Sirius looked up, and to his relief saw Albus Dumbledore standing calmly in the doorway.

“Professor Dumbledore,” Fudge shilly-shallied. “H-how pleasant to see you again.”

“Likewise,” Dumbledore said, his blue eyes twinkling. He turned to Remus, thanked him for inviting him to Christmas dinner, and then continued to address Fudge’s question:

“You see, a couple of months ago, I found that uniform at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and gathered that it must have belonged to Sirius Black. Since Mr. Lupin is trained in the Dark Arts, I brought it to him in hopes that he would be able to tell me if it contained any sort of dark magic, and therefore by definition any sort of clue where Black might be hiding. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to do so.”

Dumbledore then turned to Remus, “Since its important that we stay on top of this matter, I would like to give this to Severus to see if he might be able to uncover…” here he looked at Fudge, then at Umbridge, “…any secrets it might possess.”

Fudge and Umbridge looked at each other and frowned. Slowly, Fudge released the uniform.

“Well then,” he said, clapping Remus on the forearm. “I do apologize for any inconvenience we may have caused you. No hard feelings, I hope.”

“Of course not,” Remus replied, his voice edged with sarcasm.

“I just had the most lovely idea,” Umbridge simpered. “Why don’t I help you put this right, and all of us can go to the Three Broomsticks for a lovely Christmas dinner?”

Sirius growled, and Remus and Kia glared at her.

“I think you’d better leave,” Dumbledore said. “Both of you.”

Umbridge looked affronted as she stepped outside. Fudge crammed his lime green bowler hat on his head, muttering as he slammed the door behind him. For a few minutes nobody spoke. Finally, Dumbledore went to the door and stuck his head outside…

“They’re gone,” he said simply, locking and latching the door behind them.

Kia buried her head in her hands, sobbing with relief while Remus transformed Buckbeak back into a hippogriff. Sirius resumed his human form and looped his arm around her shoulder.

“Ki,” he said simply. “It will be okay, baby. I promise! It will be okay.”

She embraced him, buried her face in his shoulder, and clung to him for dear life.

“I don’t understand,” Remus said. “How did you…”

“Kingsley Shacklebolt sent me an owl saying that he’d overheard them planning to search a home in Hogsmeade for information regarding a matter that had caused a great deal of embarrassment to the Ministry,” Dumbledore said. “I put two and two together and came here to warn you.”

“How can we ever thank you?” Kia said.

“Well, I can see that the goose is ruined,” Dumbledore replied. “But if I could talk you out of a slice of that lemon tart, and maybe a small Sherry…”

“Of course,” Kia said. “But I’m afraid we don’t have any Sherry. Only Port…”

“Port will do nicely, thank you,” Dumbledore assured her.

 

Remus waved his wand, clearing away the dinner dishes and leaving only those necessary for dessert. Sirius turned on the tea kettle, and Kia retrieved the glasses and the wine.

“Dumbledore finished his tart, took a sip of Port, then looked directly at Sirius:

“Is there any way at all that I can persuade you to do the prudent thing?”

“I’ve already told you I’m not going back to Grimmauld Place,” Sirius replied.

“You’d be safer there,” Dumbledore said. “And your family can no longer…”

“There’s still that bloody house-elf!” Sirius reminded him. “And my mother’s portrait. No…just no.”

“Are there any more charms we can put on this house?” Kia asked. “Or maybe on my flat?”

“See, that’s the trouble,” Dumbledore said, “As I’m sure you’ve realized, the Ministry has been keeping an eye on both you and Remus, and will continue to do so for as long as Sirius is at large. Whether he stays here or at your flat, there’s always a chance he’ll be discovered.

“But Grimmauld Place has been charmed in such a way that the Ministry cannot access it. From what I understand it’s a complex charm…with a bit of dark magic involved, but he would be safe there, and the two of you would be able to visit him, or even move in if you like.”

Sirius rested his forehead in his hand and shook his head. “I can’t” he said simply. “I just can’t.”

Dumbledore sighed. “I’ll look into some stronger charms then, for the time being. But you may wish to keep the option in mind, if only as a last resort.”

Dumbledore left. Sirius, Remus, and Kia ate what was left of their dinner and gave the ruined goose to Buckbeak. None of them said much, and Sirius could tell that they were worried.

If the truth were to be known, he was worried as well. Not for himself. He’d been through hell and back, and although he would never be the quite the same as he was before, he was beginning to feel better with every passing day. But he couldn’t allow Remus and Kia to risk any more on his behalf. And he wouldn’t go back to Grimmauld Place. There was only one place worse as far as he was concerned, and was Azkaban.

He waited until Kia was asleep, then untangled himself from her arms and slipped downstairs, transformed Buckbeak, and put him into a gift bag. Then he found a pen and a piece of paper and scribbled out a note:

“Please burn this after you read it. I know what the green one and the pink one are capable of and I won’t put either of you in danger. Please don’t search for me. I’ll be in contact as soon as the dust settles. I love you both.”

He left the note on the table and changed into his prison uniform. He saw the cloak Harry had given him hanging on the coat rack and draped it around his shoulders, thankful that Hermione had suggested the gift.

He cracked the door, then assumed his animagus form. Then, he took the gift bag which held Buckbeak in his mouth, and headed back towards the mountains from whence he came.

_~Finite Incantatem_


End file.
